When A Protege Becomes the Master
by WolfSymphony
Summary: Who would have thought that the first sidekick of Batman would become his own man, let alone become a master himself. Fate has given Nightwing a choice of taking care of a protege. Edmund isn't loved and given to the Joker as payment by his parents in exchange for survival. But meeting Edmund has given Dick an understanding of why Bruce adopted so many kids.
1. It Was Almost Like The Beginning

_**Hey guys! This is my first story up! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! I love comments and advice is also welcome!'**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Nightwing or any of the Batman characters, they all belong to their rightful owners at DC and whomever else.**_

 _ **ENJOY!**_

 _ **REVISED:5/22/2016**_

* * *

"Look at that. The freak's patrolling."

"Trying to be cool by wearing glasses indoors, but that won't work. What a loser!"

"Dorst? More like Dork!" Then they all started laughing. That's when one of them, a chubby boy with slicked back hair, obviously a rich momma's boy, came up to the front of the room and pushed the subject of bullying to the ground.

"Hey Dork, why so quiet? Have nothing to say?" The 13-year-old on the floor looked up at the senior bully through his specially tinted glasses, quietly gauging how heavy each of his rolls were.

It was only the beginning of the year and the boy being bullied, Edmund Dorst, had recently arrived at Gotham Academy. He had moved all around the world with his parents, his father owned a company and he liked going to every one of its branches to set it up the way he wants.

Edmund was born in Paris, France on the 28th of March. His birth was...unwanted to say the least. He was left with one of the family servants to be cared for every day, every week, every month, and every year of his life. His mother would do something, anything, other than being at home after his birth. She said she deserved the freedom. His father was never home as it was due to work but whenever he had free time he would spend it with his wife in the city of love. As time went on so did they, stopping in almost every country in Europe. This allowed Edmund to learn, cultures and languages alike. Sadly, each time they moved the previous house servants would not travel with them, that meant that every time the Dorsts' moved Edmund would leave familiarity behind. He was always alone.

"What happens if I take your sunglasses away, huh Dorst?" With one swipe the fat boy stole Edmund's glasses right off his face, leaving him with the glaring light burning his eyes leaving him blind. A short yelp of pain escaped his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks. There was something more to Edmund, his eyes were special. He was born with a rare disability, the only doctor Edmund had ever seen did not know what the defect was but his eyes rather than being the brown eyes of his mother or the blue ones of his father were a pale grey-brown color. It was as if he was meant to have his mother's brown eyes but the color was sucked from them when he opened them.

Edmund has theorized that perhaps his sensitivity to light was due to the lack of pigmentation in his eyes but other than that he has just dealt with it. His eyes are extremely sensitive to the light, he can't see outside during the day without his glasses or in artificially light rooms. At night though he has noticed that with just the moon, and no other light source, his eyes can see clearly without irritation. The less light there is the more clearly he can see, but that's all he knows so far.

"Look at him squirm! He's even crying!" The rest of the group laughed at Edmund, including the one that currently held his glasses. After a moment of gaining his composure, Edmund wiped his tears, making sure to keep his eyes closed, and aimed his head upwards towards the approximate direction of the fat bully's face.

"I would advise you to return my sunglasses before I run completely out of patience." The 13-year-old stood with the help of the surrounding desks as he spoke, his voice slightly accented by a french curl.

"What are you going to do about it? You think that I'm going to let a skinny little kid like you do-" With a resounding crack, the bully fell to the floor holding his gushing nose. Conveniently enough the missing teacher appears to find a straight-faced Edmund (with his glasses on) standing above a whimpering bully.

"EDMUND!" She screeched as she rushed to the whimpering boy's side. "Why would you do such a thing! Go to the office! No, stay right there I'm calling security, this is the final time you get away with such behavior!"

The rest was a blur, Edmund remembered two security men coming up and leading him out of the room as the rest of the students looked at him go.

"Get in, son." He was lead into the police car and driven down to the station. His father would not be happy.

"Get out, the other cop said as he opened the door for him. He remembered sitting in front of one of the police men's desks and was stared down by the man.

"Haven't you been here before, kid?" Edmund shrugged, not really seeing it necessary to answer.

"What's your name?" Again he shrugged, then he considered telling the man his name, perhaps he can see the Old Man. The Old Man was kind, he wasn't like all the other cops not corrupt or abusive of his power. He was always trying to help Edmund. Last time he had seen him, the Old Man had told him that if he ended up in the station again he just had to say his name and the officer he was with would take him straight to him.

"It's Edmund Dorst." The officer blinked and leaned back in his chair, a contemplative look crossing his face.

"'Kay then kid, come with me. We're going to the Commissioner."

-BLUDHAVEN

An environment of office phones and rushing steps with spilled coffee and papers alike. One particular police officer made his way towards the new rookie's desk, this rookie's name was none other than-

"Grayson!" The raven haired officer looks up to find his superior officer looking down at him expectantly.

"Yes, sir?"

"You got a call." Who would call Dick to the office rather than his actual phone?

"A call, sir?"

"Its Commissioner Gordon from Gotham P.D. says he needs your help down in Gotham. How you got connections like that I have no idea kid, but you better represent us right." With that, the officer walked away and left Grayson to his phone call.

The raven haired officer picked up his receiver and said, "Hello?"

"Officer Grayson?"

"Yes that's me, what can I do for you Commissioner, seems like a pretty long distance call for something that wasn't urgent."

"Yes, yes, well I have a favor to ask of you."

"Oh?"

"Yes, you remember Gotham academy right? Well, there's this kid that seems to have gotten on the securities' bad side." Now this was something interesting.

"I'll see when I can go over there, I'm sure Bruce would love to see me."

* * *

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 _ **-WolfSymphony**_


	2. A Bat-Gala

**WARNING: Blaise Dorst is cruel to Edmund! He pinches the back of his neck so I just want to let you all know! That's sort of abuse there...**

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 **REVISED: 5/23/2016**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2:**_ _ **A Bat-Gala**_

The Old Man, as the Commissioner was dubbed by Edmund, looked at the boy and gestured to the seat in front of his desk.

"What brings you here again Edmund? I thought we had talked about less than three visits a week?" Edmund looked down at his lap, not really wanting to look at the man. It really was the beginning of the year, not six months had gone by and he was the biggest target in the school. At first, he was sent home and separated from the rest of the class for a week or so. His father was never happy with him, but seeing his son's face before the school day's end was usually a torture for Blaise Dorst.

"I…" The boy didn't know what to say so he remained silently looking at his lap shamefully.

"Was it him again?" Even without saying his name the 13-year-old knew who the man was referring to, it was the fat boy who had been antagonizing since he arrived at the school, so he nodded his platinum hair messily splayed on his forehead, an unprofessional look or so his father would say once he saw him.

The commissioner sighed, he wasn't upset with the child, not one bit, he really just wanted to help him. That's why he had called Dick, the boy had known what is was like to be a new foreign student at Gotham Academy and he had survived as well.

"Chin up, lad," said Gordon as he tapped the edge of his desk, "It wasn't your fault." Edmund looked up, surprised at the kindness he was receiving. He nodded and looked at the Old Man in the eyes, finding only warmth and worry.

"I've called an acquaintance of mine over here to help you out. He used to go to Gotham Academy and he had a similar experience to yours. He was foreign and new to the...environment just as you are." The boy's eyebrow raised, the Old Man had called someone over for him. Who was this person?

"Thank you, sir," Ed replied quietly, almost shyly, which wasn't like him. He was quiet, reserved, and formal. Strictly professional in any environment and only spoke if it was asked of him.

The room was quiet, it wasn't uncomfortable but it was pleading to be broken. Ed had been thinking for a while since he had arrived at Gotham he had heard a lot about the city's villains, but also about the vigilantes. One, in particular, caught his attention, it was Batman.

"Sir, if I may, who is the Batman?" The Commissioner was caught a bit by surprise, but he leaned back into his chair preparing himself to tell a story.

"Well, son, isn't that the golden question? Let me tell you…"

The black limousine pulls up to the classic Wayne mansion, the back car door was opened by the long time family butler allowing his 'grandson' to get out and look up at his old home.

"Thanks, Alfred," Dick said as he got out of the car.

"Of course, Master Dick." Alfred swiftly picks up his master's luggage and brings them up into the mansion. As Dick enters he looks around, nothing had really changed, then again he hadn't been gone too long. He had been there the previous Christmas to celebrate, of course, that had been spent in the Batcave infirmary and his room.

"Pennyworth, where have you been? What type of servant are you to leave without informing your employer?" It was none other than Damian Wayne elegantly stomping down the grand flight of stairs, clearly missing his big brother's presence in the home.

"I wasn't made aware you were my new employer Master Damian, but nevertheless, I'll be sure to inform his majesty the next time my presence is required elsewhere," Alfred replied in his monotone voice, only a hint of sarcasm seeping through his words. Dick couldn't help but smirk, he was already trying very hard not to burst out laughing, and that felt like he was about to explode.

"Dami, I don't think you should speak to Alfred like that. He keeps you fed around here you know?" In that instant, Damian's eyes found the speaker and glared into Dick's cerulean eyes.

"Tch, Grayson what are you doing here?" To say this simply, Damian was a bit excited, of course, he wouldn't show this emotion. Therefore his face remained expressionless and devoid of any positivity.

"I came down on call. The Commish needed something and I came to help out." Alfred had retreated into the kitchen to prepare dinner, weirdly enough he was making it a lot earlier than usual. Dick only remembered Alfred cooking meals earlier when they had a gala or event planned at the house. Since neither Dick or Bruce ate during the event-primarily for etiquette reasons- they ate dinner earlier so they wouldn't be hungry during the event. Could they be holding something today?

Before Damian could continue glaring and ranting at his brother about showing up unannounced, the telltale footsteps of a certain bat's arrival perked Dick's interest.

"I got it, Alfred!" He yelled from the hall to the kitchen and proceeded to open the door. When he opened the door he came face to face with his adopted father who was none amused.

"Dick," Bruce said in a salutary way, well as salutary as Bruce could be.

"Bruce." Dick said with a slight smirk, as he mimicked the old bat, "Nice to see you too." Bruce grunted and entered his home. He was oddly early today, they must be holding something today.

"Father, welcome home," Damian says in his oddly professional manner. Alfred comes out of the kitchen to attend to his master and almost son.

"Master Bruce welcome home. The gala will begin soon, your suit is prepared on your bed along with the accompanying tie and shoes." Alfred grabs Bruce's suitcase and jacket.

"Thank you, Alfred. Dick if you're staying you should get changed. Tonight I'm hosting a gala for an alliance with the Dorst Corp. It seems that they've been trying to get a strong alliance with another company."

"Wait, Dorst? Huh, I think I got called over for a kid named Dorst. Edmund Dorst." It was a curious thought and a huge coincidence. Perhaps this was fate, he was meant to meet the child before scheduled time apparently.

As a dark limo arrived at the brightly lit mansion, the man within looks down his nose at the child next to him. Blaise glared at the boy and grabbed him harshly at the back of his neck.

"I'm warning you now boy, you better not mess this up for me. You will stay within my sight at all time. You will only speak if spoken to or if I tell you to. Lastly, you will be professional and strictly so." Edmund nodded keeping his head low and almost unmoving in the pinching grip. His eyes lifting slightly behind his glasses to look at his mother. She was beautiful, her long hazelnut curls cascaded down her back and split over both of her shoulders. The stunning red dress sparkled slightly from the light bouncing off of it. She kept her eyes on her nails, checking them to see if every single one was perfectly painted, her eyes cold and uncaring when they made contact with her child's. She never held him as a baby, when he was born she had denied the doctor's offer. It was really no wonder that she felt no real connection to him.

The car finally stopped and Blaise lets go of his son's neck, stepping out elegantly waiting for his wife to emerge from the vehicle.

"Come now, my love, riches and opportunity await." Blaise looks at his wife, love in his eyes as he links his arm with hers.

"Oh honey, you always know just what to say." The two started their way up the stairs, not looking back at their child as he emerged from the car and looked up at the mansion.

Edmund was awestruck, it wasn't that he had never seen a mansion before. No, Edmund had lived in many mansions, some so spacious you could probably fit a whole circus in them. What Edmund had never seen was one like this one. The house was designed to look cold and dark, almost intimidating, but there was something beautiful and calm about it. So family like...it seemed like a place that held many memories. Each of the shining windows reflected the lights from the inside and a hidden past, a lost story. Edmund wished he could discover all of this house's secrets, all of its memorable treasures, but he was far from welcomed here. He wasn't welcomed anywhere.

"Young sir?" The voice startled him out of his daze and as he looked he was pleasantly startled for it wasn't his father but a kind looking older man. He stood tall his stance poised and graceful with an aura of dignity surrounding his form. This man looked stern at first glance, but looking deeper into his eyes one could see the calm and the kindness within. He seemed to carry a heavy burden, memories of the past that still haunt him and the pains of not knowing a future that is to come pressuring him. Who was this man?

"Young sir, is everything quite alright?" The man had a British accent, from England? That's quite intriguing, he had always found that he loved English styles. Their brewed tea and jam and cream scones were among his favorite treats, and he had always found it fascinating that during tea time, individuals sat together to drink a soothing cup. Edmund had always wished to try this but he'd never found a partner to do so. Once before he had sat among the servants during their time in Britain but the moment his father found out he was tossed into his room and scolded for being such a disgrace.

"I apologize, sir, this mansion is very beautiful. I was intrigued by its design and my awareness faltered." Edmund could feel his face heat up slightly, he had made quite a fool of himself. What type of face could he have been showing? Perhaps his mouth had been gaping wide like a fool's, ho horribly embarrassing.

"It's quite alright sir," the older man smiled professionally, but kindly. Little did Edmund know that the older butler was comparing his awestruck expression to a certain black haired police officer and the time the young lad had first arrived at the cold manor. It was endearing in the older man's opinion.

"My name is Edmund Dorst, Mr…?" The man bowed slightly and introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of the Wayne household and family.

"Mr. Pennyworth, a pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine. Now, Mr. Dorst, I believe you have someone within the manor who awaits you." I nod distractedly, walking next to Pennyworth as he led the way into the elegant home.

* * *

 **I was going to keep going but this chapter was running a bit long and I don't know if you guys like long chapters or not. I would love to know what you thought! If you enjoyed it or not. Thank you!**

 **Ciao!**

 **-WolfSymphony**


	3. Meeting the Bat-Family

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* * *

From the inside, the manor looked even more magnificent! The ceiling was high and hanging in the middle of the large hall was a crystal chandelier, its dazzling glass reflecting the light in every direction. People were gathered in small groups discussion whatever it was that the rich discussed here in Gotham.

"Mr. Dorst, would you care for a treat? The food table is to you right. Your parents seem to be standing with Master Wayne up ahead." Pennyworth gestured to each corresponding place as he spoke. The treats I saw looked absolutely exquisite, but I knew that if my father had noticed my absence he was boiling in rage at the moment. It would be best for me to meet up with them as soon as possible.

"I thank you for your kind offer, but I believe my parents would want me present during this meeting," I smiled slightly, and tilted my head in gratification, then with a confident step, I approached my parents and the host of the gala, Bruce Wayne. The man was known throughout Gotham as the "White Knight of Gotham". He was a company owner and gave generously to all the charities he could. He was greatly loved but very suspicious. Quite a coincidence that Gotham's White Knight seemed to have nothing to do with Gotham's Dark Knight. Two distinct individuals have strikingly similar titles and yet, they seemed nothing alike.

"...it's a shame that so many children lack a good home and loving parents." Once I was close enough to the group of there, I heard my father say these words with such pain and grief, as if he actually cared for these orphaned children he spoke of. Mr. Wayne noticed my arrival very quickly, his eyes flashing with some emotion, one I quite couldn't place my finger on. Yet, as quickly as it appeared it disappeared without a trace.

"Edmund, there you are. We were wondering where you had gone." My father turned to me and smiles at me, his expression was calm and almost content, but his eyes were livid and they glared into my own harshly. I turned to Bruce Wayne and bowed my head in greeting. My father rested his hand on my shoulder and introduce me to Mr. Wayne.

"Mr. Wayne, this is my son, Edmund Dorst." Bruce Wayne returned his eyes to me and as he smiled kindly he stepped slightly closer and reached out his hand.

"Hello Edmund, I am Bruce Wayne. It is a pleasure." I kept my face composed as I reached out my hand to shake his. His grip was strong, but not painful and his hands were calloused. These were not hands of a carefree, office-working billionaire. They were almost like my own, except my own were less so than his. I gained callouses at a young age from fencing and rock climbing. I had dabbled in gymnastics, but there was always something I liked about climbing on high places.

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Wayne," I said, trying to hide my accent from my voice, both my father and Mr. Wayne heard it and both were surprised, for different reasons I'm sure. My father was the first to speak.

"Edmund," he scolded darkly, "What have I told you about your accent? How improper of you. I apologize, Mr. Wayne, my son can be disobedient at times." He would have continued to belittle my presence in the eyes of Wayne, but Mr. Wayne interrupted him as he addressed me instead.

"You have a french accent. _Parlez-vous francais?_ " Mr. Wayne asked me in a surprised voice if I spoke french. My heart fluttered with excitement, it had been years since I spoke french with another individual. Neither of my parents knew their native languages, neither French or German, so they spoke English.

" _Oui, Monsieur, je parle francais. Il est ma premiere langue!_ " **[Yes, sir, I speak french. It is my first language!]**

"Ah, I see." From there Wayne reverted back to English, he had noticed my parents' blank faces as we spoke. I am sure he had deduced by now that neither of my parents spoke french. Their faces were laughable but the most Mr. Wayne and I did was share a smirk and then I took hold of my emotions, setting my face back to its professional expression.

"Well…" My father tried to begin the conversation between Mr. Wayne and himself once more, but Wayne seemed to be awfully interested in my language knowledge.

"Do you speak any other languages, Edmund?" I did indeed, and he was the first to be actually interested. I almost believed the languages I had acquired were pointless.

"I know five romance languages, English, and Japanese, my Mandarin, and Arabic aren't as strong." Mr. Wayne seemed impressed. Arabic was a language I tried to learn from books since we never did stop in an Arabic speaking country and we had only stayed in China for a year.

"I imagine the most spoken ones, correct? Including French; Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and Romanian? Do You speak Romanian? My son is part Romani, actually. His family stopped in many parts of Europe, but I believe Romanian is a language close to his heart. My accent is horrid, so I have a feeling he gets tired of trying to translate my words." I nodded and waited for Mr. Wayne to continue. He hadn't really asked a question at the end of his comment, so I was left to wonder what his next words would inquire. I could already feel my father's burning gaze, he was very upset. I could tell.

"Edmund." It was my father this time.

"Yes, Father?"

"Why don't you get yourself some treats from the food table right over there. I'm sure something will appeal to you." I nodded and obediently began to retreat from the group of adults. As I took a step back and boy around my age stepped into the group. His black hair was a gelled up slightly in a spiky style and his navy eyes were hard and almost angry. He looked very much like Mr. Wayne, could this be the son he was talking about?

"Father, I can not seem to find Grayson. Have you seen him?" The boy didn't quite have an accent, but his English was very refined, like Wayne's, but there was something a bit different about it.

"I haven't seen Richard all night, Damian. But while you're here, why don't you lead Edmund here to the food table. I'm sure you two will get along well." Our eyes met and I instantly felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. For a moment, it was almost as if he was going to refuse but he thought better of it and smiled at me. It was fake, you could tell he did not want to be at this party but had no other choice in the matter. Perhaps his father was as demanding as my own, I hoped for the best and no matter how this boy may seem to me I did not wish for the life I had.

The walk to the food table was silent, he did not look at me and neither did I. On the table were the most beautiful of pastries. Cupcakes, cookies, and brownies; none of them seemed homemade, most likely catered due to their multitude.

"Well? Are you only going to gawk at the sugar covered confections or are you going to choose one? I don't have all day." The more this boy talked the more he seemed to be trying at my nerves, he was no more than a rich bully. I did not like any kind of bully, much less, ones that should know better than that. This boy seemed far from stupid.

"What was your name again, _garcon_?" **[..., boy]** I tried to keep my voice steady and emotions in check, but this boy had plucked far too many strings. My anger made my speech laps into french, a very bad habit of mine.

"My name is Damian Wayne." He paused waiting for my reply, then with an irritated "tt" he glares at me and says, "Has no one told you that it is impolite to ask for something without returning in change."

"My name is Edmund Dorst." We glared at each other, his defiant eyes irked me greatly. The tension built and it was almost tangible.

"Dorst," He spits out my name like a disease. "I have been meaning to inquire. Have your parents not told you that it is extremely rude to wear sunglasses indoors?!" His hand swiped by my face far too quickly for me to realize what he was doing and just as quickly his hand paused his middle finger just grazing my lens.

"I apologize for Dami's behavior, he's not quite used to interacting with others." Damian's eyes widened in unison to my own. Damian yanked his hand from the man's grip as I looked up. This man looked straight at me, but it wasn't an unkind stare. After a moment, he smiled kindly and extended his hand to me, blue eyes shined happily, almost like a child opening Christmas gifts.

"Hello, my name is Richard Grayson but call me Dick." I was still in a bit of shock, but I extended my hand out and grasped his in my own shaking it firmly. He wore a tuxedo as every other man in the room was, with a blue tie and his hair was slicked back.

"I...My name is Edmund Dorst. I apologize for my previous behavior. There seemed to be a misunderstanding between young mister Wayne and I." I stumbled over my words flustered by what had happened, Richard would surely tell my father of my disturbance. Nothing could go worse for me tonight anyway, I already had my room reserved for the next three days.

"Psh, kid don't worry about it, I'm pretty sure Dami here was the one antagonizing you. I didn't see your hand a hair away from his face." Damian yanked his hand from the older man's grip, glared at me a final time and stomped away. I adjusted my glasses and looked at Richard, I didn't really know what to say.

"So, you're Edmund Dorst. You might not know, but I'm the person the Commissioner of Gotham P.D called. Heard you had a bit of trouble in the academy." I nodded silently. He seemed very kind and actually seemed interested in my problem. If the Old Man had called him he must be a worthy person to trust. Yet, this party did not seem like the right place to speak of my conflicts.

"I apologize, for I do not mean to be rude, but I do not believe this is the right place to speak of these problems." Blue eyes blinked owlishly before Richard smiled once more, a tamed smile compared to the initial one.

"Yeah, um, yeah I agree. Why don't I meet you tomorrow? I'll come by your house to speak with your parents about the situation, and then we can talk."

* * *

 **After the Gala: Wayne Manor**

The party had ended leaving the four individuals exhausted and yearning to go to their rooms. Well, all except a certain old bat that just loved to work at all hours of the day. Bruce excused himself to go down to the Batcave, Damian did the same as he followed after his father. Dick stayed behind to help Alfred with the cleaning up.

Alfred had refused at first, but after much convincing smiled at the man and patted his shoulder appreciatively. Alfred set to work on the dishes as Dick threw out any trash and brought dished for Alfred to clean. They worked mostly in silence until Dick just couldn't anymore.

"Hey, Alf?" Dick asked.

"Yes, Master Dick?" Alfred replied from his spot at the sink.

"Did you by any chance see the boy Edmund Dorst tonight?"

"Why yes, striking lad he was. Very polite but quite reserved, almost like Master Tim in that respect. He seemed awestruck by the manor's appearance, much like your first visit here." Dick had seen something familiar in Edmund. He just didn't know what.

Regardless, there was something special about him.

* * *

 **After the Gala: Dorst Manor**

We arrived home very late and my body felt heavy. I was very tired, but I knew that I was not allowed to go to my room without my father's permission. I sat in the living room staring at the dead fireplace in a trance and barely noticed my father's entrance to the dark room.

"Edmund." He addressed me quietly, but his voice echoed in the room far too long.

"Yes, Father?" I remained unmoving from my spot on the couch.

"What have you done?" What had I done?

"Father?"

"You are a disgrace, you understand this don't you?" My heart pounded in my chest, it hurt. My father shunned me once more. I messed up again, I can never do anything.

"Yes, father." I bow my head further, the tears stinging my eyes. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Father.

"That Richard Grayson boy, he addressed me tonight. Asked me if he could talk with you tomorrow. Apparently, the head of the police called him over to help you." I didn't know what to say.

"He will arrive tomorrow morning, around 9. You will go with him, but you will not say anything. Do you understand? Remember, that this family does not need publicity based on your lies." I swallowed slowly.

"Yes, Father." My father begins to walk out of the room but before he closes the door he stopped.

"Go to your room, boy." He almost closed the door, but it seemed he had something very important to say. I waited for him to finish or to leave so that I could stand up myself.

"Boy," He said, "Stop calling me 'Father', you're no child of mine." With that, he closed the door the rest of the way. My shoulders slumped, and for the first time in many years, I sighed and whimpered slightly under my breath as tears streamed down my cheeks furiously. I stayed huddled there until my tears stopped and dried on my face.

Why couldn't I do anything right?

* * *

 **Coming up: Dick talks with Edmund and gets to know him. He comes to understand that there is more to Edmund than the eye can see.**

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 **-WolfSymphony**


	4. Chocolate-Chip Pancakes are Divine!

_**Hello! I'm back with another chapter! I want to thank you all for joining me on this adventure, I really appreciate all the comments, favorites and reviews, truly makes my day (you have no idea).**_

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 _ **TheWeave3**_

 _ **volley-14-nerd**_

 _ **ricestalk-2004**_

 _ **Aryna Demitri**_

 _ **acticonformity**_

 _ **Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the rest!**_

 _ **On with the story! ENJOY**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own any characters belonging to Batman or DC Comics. I own Edmund and Margaret so far. Oh, and Edmund's parents but that's about it.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 4:**_

 _The darkness shrouded around the boy no older than three years old, its heavy tendrils hugging the child a tightly, and uncomfortably so._

" _Mommy? Daddy?" The little boy's voice echoed through the abyss, his pleas weak with fear._

' _Meow.' There, as a reply, came the sound of...of a cat?_

" _Hello?" The tiny boy uncurled from his spot and stood looking around but failing to see anything._

" _Meow." The mewl made vibrations through the darkness. The little boy blinked and then the room brightened to a soft gray, a little shadow sat in front of him. It was a tiny silhouette of a cat the only thing that could be clearly seen was an emblem of sorts. It had the shape of a shield with some sort of design that was blurred._

 _The tiny child kneeled in front of the creature and cautiously put his hand on top of its head. Not a second after it disappeared in a swirling mist of black and then the world the child was in blurred out of existence._

* * *

My eyes opened slowly as my brain tried to comprehend what had just occurred. The sun rose early lighting up my window, I woke up in my bed, wrapped up in my thick blankets. How I got there, I didn't really remember but last night wasn't really a time I wished to recall. My father had disowned me after many years of rejection. Perhaps I was too blind to see it. Heh, that's a bit ironic.

I got out of my bed and made my blankets as neat as possible before stepping into my bathroom and getting ready for my meeting with Richard Grayson., my dream instantly forgotten, placed away in the back of my mind. He seemed like a very kind man. Could he have been the son the Bruce Wayne was talking about. I didn't know Bruce Wayne had more than one son, or well, any children at all.

It was 8:30 by the time I had finished and as I descended the grand stairs in the mansion I looked around for any presence of my parents. My apparel would not be to father's liking but I could not go out fully dressed in a tuxedo. My white washed jeans and black hoody with some sort of blue bird on its front would look too "unprofessional". It becomes tiring when a word is used too much but that seems to be my father's favorite word. My hair was a whole other argument on its own.

My parents would most likely be asleep at this time, we had arrived quite late. I learned to wake up early in the morning. My days in Japan were quite entertaining, when the mornings were still warm, I would prepare to help the manor gardener with the zen garden in the back yard. He was a kind man. When we finished early, he would take this small park where the cherry blossoms bloomed and shined under the sun and teach me the arts of tai-chi and meditation. I still remember those times to be some of the best in my life, but that was a memory for another time.

I made my way to the door silently, the servants of the house would not arrive until 10 and my parents would not awake until 11, therefore the house was solitary at this time. The mansion was dark, very dark actually. The heavy curtains were drawn at every window and I hadn't even noticed that I wasn't wearing my sunglasses. I climbed up the stairs once more and looked around for them. I looked on my nightstand, under my bed, on the window sill, bathroom, but they weren't anywhere. Perhaps, in the living room? I climbed down the staircase again and entered the room I had occupied the night before. There they were! I grab them and slip them on, the cool plastic heating with the warmth from my ears. I begin to walk out and something in the corner of my eye twitches, prompting me to look. I stare at the wall, there was nothing out of place. Just a plant...

Slowly, I close the door to the living room and walk towards the door, Richard had mentioned something about a diner so we might stop somewhere for breakfast.

"Hey! Edmund, I'm over here." I close the door to the manor and go down the steps, every step making my heart heavier. He had arrived earlier than I had expected. I gulp and take a deep breathe, this would be my first time talking to someone outside of the family circle. Or at least talking so personally with someone.

I walk towards him, my head held high and my shoulder tense. What type of character would Richard present? Is he a fake person? No, that can't be, he wouldn't be here if that were the case, would he.

"Ready to go?" He asks, a wide smile on his face. I nodded slightly and looked to his vehicle, it was a motorcycle. It wasn't my first time on one, but this should be...entertaining.

"Yes." I replied cooly, curiously inspecting him as his eyes drifted to my hoody. Was I not in acceptable apparel? After a moment he smiled and complimented my outfit, especially the blue bird design.

"Do you know who that is?" He asked me and I shrugged, then cringed, it was improper to shrug, an 'inane gesture' as my father put it. Richard didn't seem to mind though.

"It's Nightwing, Bludhaven's vigilante. You haven't heard of him?" His comment was light and curious. But I shook my head in response, I had heard of Batman, Gotham's vigilante but not of Nightwing. They are somehow related, I'm sure of it.

* * *

The travel to the diner was nerve racking, the trip had been so short that I wasn't able to think about anything of what I would say to Richard when we arrived. We unmounted the motorcycle and entered the diner, Richard was in front of me leading the way.

Upon our entering, a bell jingled announcing our arrival. At the counter an older woman wearing an apron looked our way and instantly smiled at the sight of Richard. She looked to be in her mid-forties and was a tiny woman with her brilliant red-hair tied up in the messy bun. If she could be compared to something, she looked an awful lot like a pixie.

"Richard, honey! It's so nice to see ya again!," she walked around the counter and grabbed a pair of menus then led us to a booth in the back. The diner itself was comfortable, it resembled the style of the places I had seen in movies. I knew I heard Richard reply with something along the lines of 'Maggie, it's nice to see you too' but I couldn't be sure.

"I see ya have some company. Is this yer youngest brother ya always talk about? Damian was it?" Richard smirks, his eyes brightening with amusement before replying.

"No, this is Edmund Dorst. Edmund this is Maggie, she's super nice and makes a mean meatloaf, but if you get on her bad side. Whew, well, let's just say you don't want to get on her bad side." 'Maggie' laughed and gently smacked Richard on the shoulder, then she turned to me and smiled extending her hand for me to shake.

"I'm Margaret Hatchet, sweety, I'm the owner of this tiny ol' place and it's a pleasure to have ya here. Any friend of Richard is welcome with open arms at anytime of day, ya hear?" I took her hand and shook it. She was so kind, Richard seemed to attract people so much like himself, but how did he end up meeting me? I'm broken and far from kind or caring, I can't even make my father proud.

"Edmund Dorst, ma'am and thank you for your kind offer." She smiled once more and then asked what we would be wanting to drink. I waited for Richard to reply and then asked if I could have a cup of water. She looked at me strangely, but not unkindly.

"Ya sure, hun? We have juices: grape, orange, apple." I had tried apple juice before but it wasn't something I liked too much. I shook my head and politely declined. Margaret nodded and walked away to get our drinks.

"So Edmund, what do you want for breakfast? They have pancakes, blueberry, chocolate chip, strawberry, ooh and look bannana. I want banana ones, those sound good." I looked at the menu and I realized I hadn't tried any of these things. Margaret had brought our drinks and left us once more to decide what we wanted.

"What are pancakes?" I asked a bit confused. Were they pan shaped cakes? Most likely. They might be like crepes, I hadn't tried crepes either but they've always looked good. Richard choked on the coffee he had been sipping.

"Are you alright, Richard?" Concerned I slid my cup of water to his side of the table, he denied and I passed him a napkin once his coughs began to subside.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You've never had pancakes before?" He seemed stunned and I couldn't understand his reaction.

"No. Is that something customary in America?" He looked at me and after a moment of staring at me thoughtfully, he nodded in affirmation.

"I'm getting you pancakes, are you allergic to anything?" I wasn't and I told him so. I was a bit relieved he had picked something for me, I wasn't sure if I would be able to pick anything.

"Chocolate-chip it is. Oh, and you can call me Dick you know." My eyes widened, why would I call him that?!

"No, no, it's a nickname, you know how Richards and called Dick?" He replied quickly once he realized my expression. Oh, that made sense, I did know this, much like Roberts are called Bob. I had believed that the nickname for Richards had been Rick, perhaps I heard incorrectly.

"Richard, I mean no disrespect by denying your offer, but I don't wish to disrespect you further by using a nickname. We have yet to familiarize ourselves with each other. You are also much older than I, it isn't customary." Richard shrugged light-heartedly and continued to sip at his drink. After a moment Margaret arrived once more and asked for our order.

"Okay, so I want banana pancakes, and for Edmund he'll have chocolate-chip pancakes."

"Alright, good choice, and I'll be back in a bit. You need more coffee there, sweet-heart?" Richard nodded and Margaret was of on her way once more.

"So, Edmund. What do you normally eat for breakfast?" I thought about it for a moment. I had always given breakfast such little thought, it was always the most intense yet uneventful time with my family. I never really paid attention to what I was eating. Then I remembered.

"I always eat toast and eggs. It is what my father finds suitable for me, he does not approve sweets." Yes, Father would never allow sweets in the morning. I believe he didn't want me to be hyperactive later on in the day. I do remember that whenever neither of my parents were around, the house servant would sneak me fruits and treats. Mochi was quite delicious, I remember its taste from Japan. I wasn't going to tell Richard that, I couldn't risk the information returning to my father.

Richard leaned in, a sheepish smirk playing on his lips, "Then I guess this'll be our little secret, huh? I won't say anything if you won't." I blinked stupidly, keeping a secret from my father. I never would have dreamed of it, then again I never would have dreamed of his disowning and yet it happened. I nod in reply and Richard leaned back in his seat once more.

"So, Edmund, how old are you?"

"I am thirteen, I turn fourteen on March 28."

"Huh, older than Damian by a year." He murmured, almost to himself, "Wait, so you're in...8th grade or is it 9th?"

"Neither I am in 12th grade I would be graduating if I could have finished the year properly. But I fear that all my reprimands will not allow me to succeed." Richard's eyes widened in astonishment.

"Woah, 12th grade. That is awesome. Looks like a you're a smart kid, although you already look the part." Before I can reply, Margaret arrives with our breakfast and a bottle of what looked like syrup.

"Enjoy, boys, these were made special." She winked and walked away leaving us to eat. My plate had stacked pieces of bread? No cakes, the concept was similar to that of a crepe but they were much thicker. Odd, but interesting. Each was speckled with tiny brown dots of chocolate and the warm steam rose from the plate indicating its warmth. Richard's plate was similar, except his pancakes didn't have chocolate.

Richard silently began to eat and I followed soon after. Slowly, I cut a piece of the breakfast and lifted it up, it did look very good. Tentatively I took and bite and flavor melted on my taste buds, it was delicious. I saw Richard grab the syrup and pour it on his stack, after he set it down I did the same, the only difference being that I didn't put as much as he did on my own. Then I took another bite, it was heavenly! I chewed slowly, taking my time to taste every bit. The chips of chocolate were already melted and they spread like flavor over my tongue, liquid gold! The syrup's sweetness mingled but did not overpower the overall cake. I was very thankful to Richard for this opportunity!

"I heard you could speak seven languages fluently, and that among them was Romanian?" I nod quickly, the desert having made me happy and energetic.

"We traveled to many places when I was young. I learned them on my travels, they were a very handy tool of communication."

"Incredible kid, you are incredible." I blush slightly, I hadn't heard such praise in years.

*" _Multumesc_ , Richard." I smiled slightly at him and he returned it in full, then he took another bite of his meal and I copied.

**" _Cu placere_. So about school, you're having trouble?"

"Indeed, there is this one boy and his group. He doesn't seem to like me much." He nodded in understanding, but I did not wish to continue speaking of it.

"You know, I had the same problem when I was younger. I had skipped a few grades also, so all of my classmates were older than me." Richard could relate? But he seemed so...perfect. Who would bully him?

"Not only was I younger, but I got good grades and on top of it all I was a 'circus charity case'. Or so they said, I learned to ignore their taunts though."

"Wait, so you aren't the biological son of Bruce Wayne?" That was a very personal question, I know, but it just slipped out.

"Oh no, I'm adopted. My parents were killed in an accident during a performance. We were the 'Flying Graysons' at Haley's Circus. After they died, I got adopted by Bruce Wayne, one of the reasons I was bullied, actually, but I wouldn't change a thing." I feel horrible, I shouldn't have brought up the topic, and to add on to the pain of loss Richard was bullied for being different as well.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." What else could I have said, I already knew that sorry wasn't going to change the fact that I asked.

"It's fine, I've had time to get used to it. While the pain never goes away, I've found that is ebbs." I nod silently in reply. I couldn't imagine what it would feel like if my own father and mother were to die. I know that they wouldn't miss me much, but I would miss them dearly. I love them.

"If it isn't too personal, I've been curious about your sun glasses. They look pretty cool by the way. Mysterious." He smirked teasingly, but his comment had been true.

"I...have an eye condition. I don't truly know what it is, all I do know is that I can not see well in bright places. Neither in artificially lit rooms or during the day time." I could see in the night, strangely enough, and with my sunglasses on, quite obviously, but I felt that I should keep that to myself.

"Oh, I see. Is it like sudden blindness when your eyes are exposed or…?"

"Burning pain. When my eyes are exposed to the light they instantly start to burn, as if acid was thrown in them, I lose my sight and my eyes cry. I do usually close my eyes in time before the light overwhelms my senses completely." I said it unconsciously really, I never meant to tell him so much. Maybe it was because he was the first to actually want to know. Or perhaps, I was just looking for attention. Richard remained silent, letting everything I had told him sink in. Had I gone too far in my explanation, maybe now he'd think I was broken.

"The boy that bullies me in school, he took off my glasses. That's why I punched him." Richard started upright, staring hard at me, anger evident in his eyes.

"Wait, he took off your glasses? I can't imagine he did it kindly, so why didn't your teacher say anything to him?" I shrugged and looked at him sardonically.

"He was the bleeding one." After a stunned moment, Richard laughed, which caught me very off guard.

"Bet he didn't see that coming!" I blinked at him, who was this man? Richard Grayson, adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Kind man, easy-going personality, and heavy shoulders. Who would he be to me? Would he be anyone for me?

I smirked, "He didn't."

* * *

 ***Means 'thank you' in Romanian (used google translate)**

 ****Means 'you are welcome' in Romanian (also used google translate)**

 **That's it for now! I'll try to get more out soon! Aw, Edmund liked pancakes...I don't know, this was really fun to write and Margaret is also an OC, I apologize for that if it bothered you but I needed her! Next chapter things will become more intense between Ed and his father but Ed will meet with Richard more. Also, there is something mysterious that Blaise Dorst does not want anyone to know. The dream is a foreshadowing, but probably not for a long time~ You'll understand the cat is symbolic...And yeah!**

 **Thank YOU so much for reading! I truly hope you enjoyed, and I apologize for typos. Leave me a comment if you have the time, I would truly love to see what you thought and I love reading comments for motivation~**

 **Have an awesome day!**

 **Ciao~!**

 **-Wolf Symphony**


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